By the desert swimming hole,
A cottonwood hangs
A frayed, knotted rope
Between buff sandstone boulders
And dark green water.
If you were robust enough,
You could jump from a boulder
Catch the rope, swing out over
The water and drop.
You are not. You crouch in shade
With a stick, dragging letters
In the sloughed-off sand.
The letters rise up to dance,
Grab the knot, swing out, and drop.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.